


Dead Inside

by Glimare



Series: Dead Inside [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Apprentice arc what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-07-28 08:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20060860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glimare/pseuds/Glimare
Summary: Slade successfully took Robin in as an apprentice with the Titan's lives in his hands four years ago. Batman's on his third Robin and Oracle is functioning in Gotham. Now as Renegade, Dick is back in his city to perform his first assassination. But can he do it? It's the only way to save Robin. Or will Robin save him?It's hard to think when you're dead inside.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Same as on Fanfiction.net but edited. The parts for this book in the series are short but intense. Plus it plays the pronoun game when it's Dick's turn to narrate (ten points if you get that reference). I'll do one part a day and see how the reception is to determine posting schedules for series.  
Though I do warn about graphic violence, it's towards the end and mostly it's a psychological mood I'm trying to convey. It's darker overall so you have been warned. I like to torture my BatClan for some reason. =P  
Enjoy!

It had been years, so many years since, he'd been in that city, and many more since he had seen that person. To think there was a new one, a third. He'd heard about the second, how he died. Well, he himself had died too, inside. Died the day he swore loyalty to a man he hated more than anything, one who hung the lives of his friends over his head. For years. Even now.

He hadn't seen any of them in quite some time. And now he was back in his home town with his Master to take down a target. This was to be his first human kill. He killed so many animals on hunting trips, all of them conditioning him for this day. Each kill tore a piece of his heart out.

Frankly, taking down a corrupt mayor was the highlight of the assignment. He just wished he'd do it through the system instead of with a sniper rifle. The heavy weight never felt right to him. He may be good with it now, but it still felt wrong. At least his stomach could take it now.

"I would strongly advise against pulling that trigger."

Speaking about stomachs, his suddenly grew a hole at the voice. He knew it would happen. The dread. The panic. The guilt. He knew it would come. And as much as he knew about it, prepared for it, he couldn't escape it. He barely managed to roll and flip away before a batarang struck his previous location. Reflex made him throw a smoke pellet at the ground, hiding his escape. The rifle was left behind. He could always retrieve it later if he wanted it. He knew where it'd end up.

Quickly, and with more skill than a ninja, he disappeared. He wasn't gone. He could still see them, those who interrupted his assigned kill. The new duo stood proudly side by side, looking at the empty space he once resided in. The kid next to _him_ wasn't bouncing around like he once did, and his uniform was quite a bit different. Armored. Better cloaked. Padded. He only wished he had the sense that kid clearly had. Showing off clearly wasn't part of his personality. Maybe he was just wearing the uniform to pay homage to himself and his predecessor.

Stupid kid.

He stopped analyzing the new blood and looked at the dark shadow that had once hung over him. There were a few changes to _his_ uniform and some signs of aging on _his_ face, but for the most part, _he_ was the same. Exactly the same. _His_ movements included. He could still move in tandem with _him_ if he wanted to. Part of him wanted to. Part of him wanted to run over there and hide in that shadow again, to receive the safety and comfort it once gave him.

That part of him stayed smothered by the endless empty fields inside him. He wanted to do lots of things, like smile. But none of that mattered. What mattered was fulfilling his Master's wishes or they would all die.

_"Mayor Krol is still alive, Renegade,"_ a cool, cruel voice murmured in his ear.

"Complications." Renegade replied, continuing through the shadows and vanishing from the site entirely. He knew the man's patterns. _He_ wouldn't find him. If there was one thing the young man knew, it was how to disappear. "Returning to checkpoint four."

_"Is your former mentor going to be a problem for you?_

He had to take a deep breath before answering. "No more than usual."

_"Hm."_ His Master on the other end of his earpieces seemed to be considering his options. _"Understood. Looks like we'll have to rid ourselves of the Batman before getting rid of Krol. Remember his name yet?"_

"Negative."

_"Shame. This trip would go much faster if you could only recall who he was. Rendezvous and have plans ready before arrival. Deathstroke out."_


	2. Chapter 2

Robin sat in his favorite spot with his homework spread around him while Batman worked on the computer, leaning against the Batgirl costume display case and looking straight across to the first Robin's uniform. The second one was to his right. All three had plaques underneath them, telling him who once wore those costumes. Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Richard Grayson. Paralyzed from the waist down after being shot by the Joker, beaten and blown up by the Joker, missing in action after appearing in a different uniform on a Wayne Enterprises’ rooftop while fighting his team in Jump City. Batman insisted Dick was strictly MIA, not a traitor, and Tim believed the same.

Looking at the costume above his algebra homework, he couldn't help but remember the one time he met the guy. He was just a toddler then, but it was one of the best days of his life. Well, best and worst. He saw the guy's parents die during the performance. That was pretty traumatizing. But Dick himself? He admired and hero-worshiped him. As soon as he figured out he was Robin – and that Bruce Wayne was Batman – he did all the research in the world on the guy. Even had a scrapbook dedicated to him – Robin that was, not Dick. Those articles and photos were in a special box under his bed.

Alfred nearly flipped out when he saw it the first time. Bruce said something about this being good detective work. If Oracle saw it, she'd probably say he was a stalker, but his identity was being kept from her at the moment. It wasn't a matter of trust, but more for keeping everything professional. Too many hurt feelings amongst them from getting too personal then losing those they cared for.

Becoming Robin was an uphill climb.

Thankfully, Timothy Drake was a very determined young bird, and extremely careful. Bruce taking him in and training him fully to be his partner was assured shortly after his parents were kidnapped and poisoned. His dad was alive thankfully but in a coma. No one knew if he'd ever wake up. His mom wasn't so lucky. The way Tim coped was through meditation and forcing himself to think of them being gone on another long trip. They took a lot of those.

It was because of those trips and their lack of attention towards him that made being Robin a possibility in the first place. That and he figured out everything, from Bruce's identity to him needing Robin to stay sane, to Dick actually being forced into the position he was in, whatever that was these days.

One of Robin's test missions was to figure out exactly what happened to the boss' first partner. After Jason became Robin, Batman took him to Jump to look around for a week and gave him unlimited access to everything on the original boy wonder. Jason, though, wasn't much of a detective at the beginning and instead ended up getting on most of the Teen Titan's bad sides. Tim hadn't had his short meeting with them yet, but he'd already figured out most of it from reports and recordings. The Dark Knight talked to the Titans about two days after that night on Wayne Tech and learned about the probes inside them years ago. The day after the Titans learned about them themselves they tracked the signal back to its original source, hoping to find their missing leader.

All they found was an empty haunt.

A week later, the Titans were probe free thanks to the Atom. After all, it was originally his tech. Of course, he could reverse it. But by then, the original Robin was gone. No one had seen him since. Jason never got to meet his brother.

Tim finished his last problem and put his book and assignment in his bag. Just a quick essay for English and he was in the clear. School was easy for him now he wasn't in that boarding school, and Alfred and Bruce were his tutors. He just had a problem getting it all done during crime waves and getting enough sleep, and there was the whole social life problem every crime fighter had or lack thereof. In many ways, becoming Robin had improved his life. He now had something to live for, and if it weren't for Batman, he really would be an orphan. He only wished he could do more for the man who gave him a real life.

Partway through writing his review essay on a short story in his anthology text, he heard Batman's chair jolt to the ground. The noise made him jump, jerking around to see what the problem was. "Mr. Wayne?"

When he didn't get a response, he got to his feet and came to the computer where he was working. Earlier that evening, they caught wind of hired gun going for their mayor (a lying politician, but the guy didn't deserve to die) and had prevented the assassination without a fight. He barely saw the guy before he chucked out a smokescreen and ran off to nowhere. Long black hair tied into a ponytail, bandanna Zorro-eske mask with red lenses, black clothes with silver armor plates scattered in different locations, and a red V on either side of his torso. Guy had to be in his early twenties, but he was lithe, fast, and stealthy like a ninja. He escaped Batman after all.

Thing is, the guy left his gun. Bruce took it with them when they returned to the cave. It was the only thing indicating a person was there at all. This guy was good. The detective took the thing apart, looking for fingerprints and any form of DNA. Serial numbers were removed and there were no prints, but Mr. Ponytail left a hair inside one part of it. Bruce found it and was running tests last he knew. Now he was just gaping at the results on the screen. "Mr. Wayne?"

Realizing he had an audience, Bruce jerked out of his shocked state and covered up the results. "Homework done?"

"Nearly. What's going on?" Tim cocked his head curiously. He hadn't had a chance to learn how to read that particular kind of test result yet, so his brief glance at it was gibberish to him. Given a few minutes, he would have known what was on it.

"Call it an early night," the man insisted, bringing up other files connected to the assassination attempt: possible known killers from out of town. The bird long suspected he had a list and file for everything. "You have a test in the morning."

"Okay… but –” 

"Tim," Bruce looked over to him, serious and turning to stone as he spoke, "remember what you promised me when you first volunteered for this job. My orders are absolute and for good reason. I need to verify my findings before releasing them."

The young teenager looked at him for a long moment, considering what he said, before nodding. Whatever he found out about this guy, it spooked him. Anything that spooked Batman was strictly forbidden to Robin. He had to step back, let himself be protected. Doing this would be the biggest help the man needed, for his sanity especially. Dick wouldn't let him and was beaten, shot, and eventually blackmailed. Jason's defiance resulted in his death. Being a reckless bird would only drive the man further into the darkness, and Robin was supposed to be his light.

"Alright. Don't forget to get some sleep too, okay?" Bruce nodded to the boy's plea, making him smile before heading to the lockers to change from his uniform. "Kay. Goodnight, Mr. Wayne."

"Goodnight, Tim." The man watched him until he was out of his sight, seeing two other boys who did the same as well. He just wished Tim would also call him Bruce soon. So young, and so formal…

In a snap he jerked from his thoughts and back to the results. No one else would get these results, not the FBI, CIA, Interpol, anyone. All of their results regarding these genetic markers would be sent straight to him, and then their records would be deleted.

Dick Grayson.

Found.


	3. Chapter 3

Dick was casing the place, sunglasses on and his long hair loose around his face. He looked like a punk rocker when he was allowed out of his Master's sight in daylight, like right then. He even had a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in his pocket in case he needed to sell it (he didn't smoke, but the character he portrayed could). He cased a lot of places in this disguise over the years, cold and expressionless. It made things easier. Feeling nothing.

And he needed to feel nothing right then. He saw _him_enter that building an hour ago. How easy it would be to come up to _him_, drop a note into _his_ pocket about the probes in his friends' bodies, and make it look like an accident. Too bad his Master caught him trying that once with a police officer after a year on the run. The officer died in an hour, shot through the head. He wasn't about to put another person's head on the chopping block.

And yet there he was, casing a place in order to kill someone later that night. Krol left the office late. Well, at least the guy looked like he was working. Hill was too attached to his parties.

Another shiny car pulled up in front of the building, stopping in the loading/unloading zone. It would have been one of many shiny cars if a certain gentleman didn't come out of it. Dick pushed back his beating heart as fast as he could as he recognized the man who helped raise him. The butler was older than he remembered, more careworn too. Well, with number two's death and his betrayal, the man would be. He cared a great deal more than he gave on. So did his employer.

To his surprise, a boy, maybe in his teens, rode his skateboard up to him, grinning. Dick leaned forward a bit, interested in who this kid could possibly be. The butler gave him a smile, a kind one he used to receive all the time. The boy and he started talking, motioning to his backpack and also to the building. The kid changed from normal happy to interested, looking at the building too. Black hair, fairly athletic, talking to the butler and referring to _him_, it cinched it.

This was Robin, the third Robin.

Dick focused on calming his insides as he watched the kid in wonder. What would possess this kid to take up his old role? He seemed so… normal. He wasn't bouncing about like he used to. He wasn't charging forward, he talked to the butler like a friend, and he was calm, though clearly interested in what his boss was doing inside. Whoever this kid was, he really shouldn't be there. Kids did not belong in this world.

Before he knew it, _he_ appeared. Unconsciously the acrobat hid further in the shadows, trying to erase his presence entirely. This one would be able to find him within seconds if given the opportunity. _He_ wasn't going to get one.

The man came down the steps, some papers under an arm as _he_greeted the two waiting for him. _He_ gave them a smile, one that spoke volumes to the young man in the shadows. It made him take another step back and he had to control his heart again. _He_ was holding something back in that forced smile. Pain, thoughts, something closer to the negative than positive. It was such a familiar smile during a case _he_ wanted no help with, at all.

Bad case indeed. _He_ ruffled his new Robin's hair a bit before heading to the back seat of the car. Why the kid looked taken back at the gesture was a little confusing (it was something _he_ did all the time with him) but he pushed all of it away as the car drove off. Dick didn't leave the shadows until the car was gone, really gone. Again he buried the thoughts and emotions that came from seeing them and focused back on the task at hand. He knew he'd see them again soon. Maybe even _her_.

Oh, g-d. What was he going to do if both of them appeared?

"_See anyone familiar apprentice?_"

That cool voice made his stomach churn but he ignored his discomfort as he pressed his earring com link. Master pierced his ears personally for this. "Some. No names come to mind."

"_Hm. Pity. Think the Bat is watching Krol as well?_"

"Yes."

"_Good. I look forward to the fight tonight. You focus on Krol. Understood, Renegade?_"

"Yes, sir."


	4. Chapter 4

At that moment Robin really wished he had a bigger appetite. He had a large late lunch and skimped on dinner. Now it was nearing midnight and his stomach was growling. Batman was going to kill him if his stomach gave away their position.

Or not. A black-gloved hand waved a protein bar in front of him, which he gladly took and started eating. The guy really was prepared for anything! And Superman was the Boy Scout? Batman's hand still out in front of him told him to pass back the wrapper and soon he was digesting the bit of food in silence.

He looked over his mentor curiously for a moment, remembering how he acted all that day. He seemed a little distracted, but it was hard to tell. Bruce Wayne had a tendency to hide his feelings and had become an expert over the years. Only reason Tim could tell was because it was a common custom in his own life. Those in high society had to put on masks all the time if they didn't want to get hurt or harm their chances in business. Laws of their jungle. But the guy was definitely distracted, a little. What had he learned the other night?

  
Suddenly, the Dark Knight stood up from his perch and shot a line at city hall, seeing something. Robin quickly followed suit, knowing silence meant to follow, not act. Orders would come soon. Within seconds they were on the opposite roof and he could see a shadow running inside. "Get to Krol. Keep him safe. I'll handle the assassins."

  
"Assassin_s_?" Two or more? Batman gave him no answer, just rushed inside, following someone. Robin ran after him for a bit but lost him easily. The large man was just too fast!

Quickly, he reviewed the layout of the place from field trips and blueprints, darting to the right as soon as he got a better picture. The mayor's office wasn't that hard to find, especially since the security there was minimal. As he ran forward, he saw three knocked out security officers and a terrified lobbyist. Whoever was ahead of him though didn't take the shortest route. He saw several late-night workers walking around unharmed, including the janitor, while taking the swiftest route to the office. Krol was just getting out of his office when Robin made it there, yawning.

"Sorry, sir." Ignoring his confused look, the teen wonder yanked the guy towards a small storage closet and stuffed a sedative in there with him before shutting the door and jamming the lock. Unless the assassin went postal or had X-ray vision, the politician was safe. Now he had to distract the assassin.

Grabbing a spare jacket someone left at the secretary's desk, he flew towards the janitorial closet. He didn't waste a second. Grabbing the nearest rolling mop bucket, a long-handled broom with a wide brush, and two spray bottles, he MacGyvered a moving dummy: broom set in the bucket with spray bottles at the bristles supporting it in place and the jacket propped at the top. To anyone in the dark and at a distance, it would look like a person in a jacket running way!

And not a second too soon. Putting the dummy near a corner to make sure it was seen, Robin heard the light running footsteps he'd been dreading. Dashing down another way, he turned off the lights and grappled the bucket behind him, yanking it towards him to follow. Not for the first time, the teen wonder was grateful he traded the pure yellow cape for a longer black one with a gold lining. The assassin chasing him and his dummy would surely have seen him and his ruse if he had the old one.

They ran down two hallways before coming to a dead end. '_CRAP!_' Robin dove to the side, letting the dummy crash into the wall half a minute after him. Not like he had much of a choice. The one he was distracting jolted to a stop for a moment before spotting him, in all his green, red, and yellow. He gave the guy a quick smile before throwing a flash bomb at him and rolling to his feet to run away. Batman said to save Krol, not fight the assassin. He had no problem obeying that order.

Unfortunately for him, the guy wanted a fight. Robin barely made it to the outside balcony before his pursuer's bolo tied up his legs, tripping him. The bird didn't bother trying to untie it and whipped out a batarang instead, slicing the ropes and rolling to his feet to defend himself. His bo staff was out just as the young man came into view, expressionless. Same guy as the other day, ridiculous ponytail and all. And were those earrings? What a douche!

"Sorry about breaking your toys," the boy bantered, trying to keep up the legendary Robin persona, "but they were seriously cramping my style."

The assassin didn't say a word, just took out his own extendable bo staff out, watching him. The teen glanced at it and wondered in part of his brain why it looked a lot like his own. "Oh. You have more toys. Fun. Care to play more?"  


"This isn't a game."

The gravity in the young man's voice struck Robin for a moment, as if the guy honestly thought he was a foolish child playing around and would soon be killed. Bruce and Alfred had that tone of voice once in a while, especially when he first signed up. "You could die any day in this fight."

  
"Boy do I know it." And Robin did know it. First Robin disappeared into enemy hands. Second one dies in personal enemy's clutches. Batgirl, well in all honesty, it was Barbara who was crippled, not her alter ego. But heroes were killed every day. Good Samaritans. All because they stood up for what was right. Didn't mean they should stop.

"Then why do this?" It was an honest question the man had for him. He even shook as he asked it. "Why are you risking your life for a man in a bat costume?"

"Turn yourself in and I'll tell you."

"Not an option." Swiftly, the assassin dived forward, swinging his staff with expert precision. Robin struggled to block each blow and knew he was horribly outmatched. He would need a miracle to win. Or he could cheat.

One strong blow was blocked, but forced him to the ground, falling painfully on his back. He narrowly missed a blow to the head by rolling out of the way, twisting his legs around the man's ankles to try to trip him up. As he rolled to his feet, his attacker flipped opposite him, landing and turning with perfect grace. He nearly gaped at the display. "What are you?! A ballerina?!"

Swiftly the acrobat charged at him again, only to get a face full of pepper. Robin threw his concoction at the guy's face so he could escape the fight entirely, running back through the double doors. If he had a spare grapple he would have swung out of there by then, but his only one that night was with the bucket. His pepper concoction though didn't stop this guy from grabbing his cape and pulling him back. Robin tried jabbing an elbow into some soft tissue, only to have his arm grabbed and twisted behind him. The other soon followed and he was caught in the guy's painful hold. There was no way he was getting out now.

"Where's Batgirl?" the guy whispered harshly in his ear. Weird question.

"Plan on cutting off my hands while you're at it?" That hold really hurt! Batman had shown him a move like it before, instructing him on where to apply pressure to make it really effective, but never demonstrating so he didn't hurt him, so he had never felt anything quite like it.

"Answer the question, kid."

Robin tried to glare at him, but couldn't twist his head far enough. "Retired. Where have you been?"

"Why did she retire?"

"Does it matter?!" That grip really hurt! His arms felt like they were on fire and would be leaving their sockets soon. "I never met her! She was before my time!"

The young man's grip faltered and his breathing became unsteady for a moment, making the boy really confused. What did it matter to him if Batgirl was around or not? He wasn't about to rat out on Barbara Gordon, even if they had never met.

His grip loosening a fraction and he pulled Robin's ear closer to him. "Word of advice: Robin is cursed. Get rid of the costume and get a normal life. You deserve better."

  
He thrust the boy to the ground, releasing him before walking towards the balcony's edge. The boy's arms were so sore, he couldn't even push himself up to follow after the perp. Instead, he pushed his torso up enough to shout after him, "Robin isn't cursed! He's the greatest thing that ever happened to me! Every Robin would say that! Don't you dare insult them!"  


The assassin gave him a passing look, seemingly considering it, before shooting off a grapple and swinging away. Robin glared after him, watching him flip through the night sky before shooting off another line. Suddenly his heart stopped. Wasn't that a…

  
"Robin!"

  
Batman's voice jerked him out of his stupor. There was no way. It couldn't be… His mentor helped him into a kneeling position, worry written across his face. He always worried about his boys when they didn't respond to his voice the first time around. "Robin! Say something!"

"Was that a quadruple somersault?"

That made the bat blink. "What?"

"That guy, that assassin with the ponytail." He pointed towards where the guy flew off, still staring at the empty air. "He did a quad."

"Robin…"

The teen wonder's mind worked at superspeed, putting everything together. Only one person in the world could do that move. He warned him about being Robin. He asked about Batgirl who hadn't been seen in two years. He performed a move that Batman had taught him. That bo staff was just like his. Bruce was distracted all day from whatever test results appeared the other night after finding that hair in that rifle. "That's Dick."

He turned to his mentor, whose face suddenly turned to stone. "Isn't it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I ever mention Tim's my favorite Robin? X3


	5. Chapter 5

His Master's hand slapped him around as if he was nothing. In his presence he _was_ nothing. Just a broken bird who had to do what he was told or others would suffer the consequences. The beatings started after he stopped fighting back and unleashing his temper on the man. He kept losing and had a lot to learn before he could win. The one-eyed monster never let his guard down around him, not long enough for him to grab the trigger at least.

"Krol is still alive! Twice you have failed to kill him! And why?! Because of them!" Slade growled at his apprentice. He may have finally gained complete control over the boy, but he was still choking on the most important lesson. Maybe teaching it in Gotham was a bad idea, but if he was to be rid of the Bat's influence once and for all, it was best to do it in his home town. He couldn't risk the Titans telling him about being deprobed so Jump wasn't an option.

"Krol wasn't there," Dick murmured, not fighting anymore. So long as he didn't fight it, became numb, he could endure it. "Robin moved him."

"Robin…" The real assassin turned away in a huff, frustrated. "A second feeble replacement to you. Well, if the Bat traded up for a newer model, maybe I should as well. After all, he seems to only care for your kind until you outlive your usefulness."

His hands clenched without his bidding. Was he threatening Robin? Another bystander? Him? If it was him, he'd take it. His life was worth nothing. An innocent he wouldn't let happen. Another Robin…

"His skills are mediocre at best," the acrobat tried quickly. He suffered enough as Robin, as Renegade. This kid, whoever he was, did not deserve to be hurt like he was. Maybe third time was the charm. "I don't see him being my height, gaining my strength, or even half my speed. He isn't a natural or talented and is barely trained; mostly used defensive or evasion tactics. It wouldn't be worth it to take him."

"You fought him." Slade's eye narrowed dangerously. Batman and Robin were his targets, not Renegade's. He was just supposed to kill Krol.

"Yes, sir."

"And he's still alive."

"He's a kid."

"You were a child."

"I was nearly an adult, he's barely a teen."

"A soft spot for children?" His Master growled. "Or is it just Robins you find precious?"

Dick didn't answer. He'd argued too much already. He had to suppress everything again, feel nothing. He was nothing.

But he couldn't have another become nothing, like him.


	6. Chapter 6

"You knew."

"Suspected," Bruce corrected, gripping his head in emotional exhaustion. His ward… his long lost son… he was back, but not as he knew him. He still hadn't had any direct contact with him to confirm anything, but Tim's detective skills are what landed him the job, not his fighting. He put everything together before he could be sure. "I was planning on getting a second DNA sample before making any assumptions."

"But it's Dick!" Tim exclaimed, pleading to know everything. From the beginning, before becoming Robin, even before Dick became Robin, the hero-worshiped Richard Grayson. They met over ten years ago and Dick was still his hero. He wanted to be like him! And for the first time in a decade, they met again. Sure it wasn't the ideal meeting, but they met! Talked! Now he wished he told the guy what happened to his ex-girlfriend. "We have to talk to him! Tell him about the probes being gone! He'll switch sides! I know it!"

"I don't doubt that," the man admitted. "The problem is telling him. You said he had earrings?"

"Yeah, real weird fashion statement."

"They're probably comlinks that monitor his vitals. Wilson is an amazing tactician. If he wants to control someone like Dick for this long, he'd need a way to monitor him constantly." The detective looked at his computer and debated searching for him that way. Constant frequencies could be found, but it'd take a while. "If we can't disable those, we might not be able to convince him of the truth."

"What if the Titans came over and –"

"Raven's disappeared between dimensions, Cyborg's working with NASA in space, Beast Boy's retired for Hollywood, and Starfire left Earth to help her people." He shook his head, sighing heavily. "I can contact the currently active Titans to get them to contact the original four, but I don't think any of them will get here in time to help."

"Ray Palmer might –"

"He didn't know Ray back then," Bruce admitted. He looked away guiltily. "I tried to keep him away from heroes who went public. Didn't want to risk identities. Dick could be tricked into believing it's a lie."

"You wouldn't lie to him though!" Tim tried to convince Bruce to step up. "You raised him! He's practically your son! He'll listen to – "

"We didn't part on the best of terms, Tim." Weariness appeared on the man's face, along with remorse. Now and back then, he wished he'd said something different to the boy he loved as his own. "He may not listen to me anymore."

"Barbara Gordon?" The kid tried after a moment.

"Can't risk putting her into the field."

"But if she hijacked the frequency she could talk to him."

This made the man blink. Quickly he started working on the computer to bring up one of his greatest allies. "This is a long shot, you know. And Dick could be aiming for Krol again at any time."

"Work different angles then." Tim stepped towards the second console to help but a wave of exhaustion hit him. Well, it would. It was nearly two in the morning.

Bruce spotted his wavering and sighed to himself. "Go get some sleep, Tim. Dick won't be striking again until after Krol surfaces again."

"Oh yeah." He looked up with a sloppy grin. "Someone ought to get him out of that supply closet."

That brought a smirk to his mentor's face. Clever kid. Outsmarted his first protégé. Couldn't win the fight, but could save the target. Good boy.


	7. Chapter 7

Renegade and Deathstroke glowered at the scene from the shadow of a rooftop. This was the third time the apprentice was supposed to kill Krol, but this time instead of the Dark Knight interfering, one of Gotham's psychos did. Two-Face and a gang of half-painted gunmen had taken over the dedication of the new courthouse. It was on Twenty-Second street. Dick really should have seen this one coming. Slade would have pushed this back if he knew better.

But they were already out, and the scattering crowd made a good distraction. There was no turning back. Krol was going to die that day. The only question was by whom: professional, amateur, or psychopath?

"They're going inside." His Master turned towards the roof access, motioning him to follow. "Take down that crazy and kill Krol. The bat and brat are mine."

"The others?"

"First come first serve."

Renegade nodded, feeding the hollow void in his chest over the small glee at taking down his first tormentor. Funny how the men he hated and feared most had only half a face. Within seconds the two of them were exiting the stairwell and taking down Two-Face's men. His opponents would live while his Master's all died. Two-Face had Krol in a headlock, his double-barreled gun pointed at the mayor's head. "Two more steps and his brains decor—AH!!"

Knives went through the psycho's shoulder and hand, forcing him to drop his hostage and gun. Not waiting for the man to recover, the former boy wonder charged at him, clocking him in the jaw on his bad side. The other side was next, then a kick to the groin. Two-Face managed to wrench the knife out of his shoulder and tried using it against him, but it was swiftly knocked out of his hand while another kick took out his knees. His favorite coin went flying into the air.

In a moment's flash, his mind returned to the night he played this man's game. Gallows. Baseball bat. Judge Watkins. Rope. Two coin flips. One death. One beating. Fired. _His_ voice.

"Batman… Save me…"

Two-face's voice reaching out into the darkness, pleading for help, broke his scattered thoughts, but not his concentration. Renegade took that coin out of the air and into his fist, ramming it into the side of the vile man's head, knocking him out cold. He'd live, for all the good that would do. His assailant unceremoniously dropped the silver dollar on the madman's head, feeling satisfied for once in all those years. Mission accomplished.

One of the thugs dived at him, probably more interested in the score he was promised than his own safety. Idiot. He threw the guy into one of his partners without even getting a look at him. He had a different target after all. Slowly he turned to find Krol and get this over with. End one corrupt politician in Gotham.

He could see the new Dynamic Duo fighting his Master from the corner of his eye. It wasn't going well for them. Having fought all of them, he knew it wouldn't end well. Only thing he could do to end it quickly and save their lives, was to end the job. This only sped up his search for the politician. Where had that coward gone to?

Three more thugs dived at him before he spotted the scared man scrambling away from them. A knife slid out of his sleeve, perfectly set for striking. One throw and it would all be over. They would leave and those two would be safe, along with his old friends.

"You're pathetic, Batman."

Renegade halted a moment hearing his Master's voice. The fight must have ended or was at a standstill. "Can't stop me. Can't save Krol. Couldn't even protect your Robins."

That made his apprentice freeze in his tracks, still as stone. Deathstroke continued. "After your second one died, I thought you'd learn your lesson. Your first has clearly chosen a better path with me, now free of you and your ideology. Maybe I should take this one as well, save him from your rogue gallery. At least with me, he's guaranteed to survive and become unstoppable.

"In fact," a smile grew behind his mask, "I think I will."

"NO!"

Everything exploded within him. Before anyone could decipher who shouted, Dick tackled the assassin, slashing through the weak points of his armor. He didn't see the trigger at the man's waist. He didn't see Batman forcing himself up after a dislocated shoulder, gashes down his arms or the shots through his leg. He didn't see Robin getting to his feet after being thrown around for a minute. All he saw was Slade, the man who forced him into the position he was in. The man who hurt him over and over again, physically, mentally, emotionally. The monster who threatened the very lives of his friends every second of every day. The assassin who took away everything he held dear just short of the one who saved him when he was a child. The cretin who promised to do the same now to Robin, all over again. All he saw was red.

The knife was lost after a solid minute of striking at the man. They parried and deflected each other's blows, one out for blood while the other out for survival. It was clear from the nerves and veins pulsing in the young man's neck and face he wasn't thinking clearly, but he didn't need to in this fight. Slade was going down from the pure animal intensity Dick screamed out.

"DON'T" A punch dislocated the monster's arm and fractured his collarbone.

"EVER" Kick to his side, shoving armor inward on his ribs.

"TOUCH" Elbow to his good eye, crushing his nose in the process.

"ROBIN" Knife blow to his neck, cutting off circulation for a moment.

"AGAIN!" Twist punch to his other shoulder, throwing him to the floor uselessly.

Dick fell upon him, punching the assassin's face repeatedly. He didn't realize how much blood was starting to cover his hands. "NO MORE! DO YOU HEAR ME?! NO MORE! YOU AREN'T RUINING ANY MORE LIVES! NO MORE! NO MORE!"

"STOP!" Robin grabbed one of his arms, pulling it back in hopes of stopping Dick's frenzy. "He's down! You beat him! You won!" He turned his angry panicked face to the kid, seeing himself for a brief moment. "I'm okay. Everything's going to be okay."

"Robin…"

Hearing that voice in his ear, his old knee jerk reaction kicked in, peeling his eyes away from Robin to his old mentor. _He_ had gone through the wringer fighting that madman, and yet _he _was looking more at him than the villain. "Stand down. He can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt anyone. You've gone over four years with him without killing anyone. Don't break that record. It's over."

Dick just looked at _him_ for a long moment before looking back to his Master. Unconscious, bleeding out, weak. He won. It was over.

He looked to the man's waist and took the trigger that haunted him all these years off him before getting off. Adrenalin leaving the acrobat after that outburst, something he hadn't had in years, he wobbled on his feet. All the bad guys were down and out, even Krol (passed out due to fear). It was something he hadn't seen in so long. Almost a dream.

"Can't let him win…" the young man staggered, not sure where to go now. The chains upon him were gone now, but he was still heavy. His head started to swim, making his vision blurry. Someone was talking to him but he couldn't hear it. "Never let him win… Keep Robin safe… No more apprentices… No more…"

He collapsed to his knees, just looking at the man who tormented him all these years. Strong arms caught him, letting him lean against a large, familiar chest. He didn't flinch from _him_, didn't struggle. _He_ was not Master. _He_was so much better, so much more. _He_ was father, _he_was safety. _He_ was right.

Dick passed out, not noticing the tears running down his cheeks or how much he leaned against the injured Bat. Batman ignored his own injuries as he looked over his worn-out former partner, his son in nearly every way. There were a few cuts and bruises Wilson managed to get in, but he wasn't badly hurt. Not physically. Snapping from a nearly catatonic state used to kill to enraged passionate combat mode like that clearly signified mental problems. His boy's mind and soul would need time to heal.

But first he needed that man who started all of this permanently behind bars, then to take his son home. "Robin, contact Oracle and Flash. Have them take care of Deathstroke personally. Sedate him and remove his weapons before the police arrive."

"What about you?" The teen wonder looked over the original dynamic duo, worried. One injured badly physically and the other clearly going mental. And wasn't Dick a criminal now? That was a problem they'd have to deal with.

"I'm taking him home." There was no debate. His boy was coming home, and no force on earth was going to stop him.

** _To Be Continued in From Ashes_ **


End file.
